The Exile
by ShadowWeaver2
Summary: When the Gate mysteriously shuts down, O'Neill finds himself trapped on what he believes is a deserted world. He soon finds that it is not completely deserted. Unfortunately for O'Neill, the Goa'uld have also discovered this world and the secret it holds.
1. Prelude

_**Prelude**_

The Gate was still.

He had activated the symbols on the Dial Home Device, or DHD, several times; but the Gate itself remained completely still, not a single chevron engaging.

Eight tries.

Silence.

He tried once more. Still, the result was the same . . . nothing.

Frustration was an emotion which, while he was intimately familiar with it, Colonel Jack O'Neill hated. He hated it because it signaled that whatever was being attempted was nearing the futility stage; and he refused to give up . . . no matter what.

Now was no exception.

When the Gate failed to activate on the tenth try, O'Neill sighed heavily and stepped away from the DHD. He considered kicking it, but decided against that in favor of keeping the bones of his foot in tact.

Sam and Daniel were the experts on these things! And of course, the O'Neill luck being what it was, the damned thing had closed after they had gone through and before he had reached it. And now it refused to be reactivated. If the reports had not already shown this planet to be uninhabited, he might have thought that someone else was controlling the Gate.

And maybe they were.

But that introduced a whole new set of questions and a whole new set of unknowns into his strategic thinking. And unknowns were as bad as the frustration of a moment ago.

Turning from the Gate itself, O'Neill started to sit against the DHD so that any potential attacker could approach him only from an angle he could see them at. He made it as far as a crouch before his vision dissolved into a haze of electrum light . . .

**/ MOMENTS LATER /**

"What is he, Ssendrriya?" The light was gone now, and he could see his surroundings.

The room was a construct of shining metals like a ship, but it was certainly not Goa'uld design. However, neither did it resemble anything he had seen on any of the worlds Earth's allies held. This was completely alien and new.

As was the young lady who had spoken.

She was tall by Human standards, standing eye-level with O'Neill's six feet of height. Her hair was a deep raven black; streaks of a deep, almost metallic blue drifted through it, giving it depth. Her eyes, shining with curiosity, were a shimmering metallic azurite color as was the cloak which she wore draped over her shoulders. Her voice was soft and musical. But she was staring at him as though she had never seen a Human before.

O'Neill tried to sit up, but he found that he could not move. Fear surfaced and expressed itself in a more violent attempt to break whatever restraint held him down, without success. He could not see what was restraining him, but that hardly mattered. He would not be held captive again! It was that simple! And the fact that he could not see the restraint only pushed him to fight that much harder.

"His species is Human, Koraes." Another female voice answered. O'Neill stopped for a moment, trying to pinpoint the location of the second person, but he could see no one else in the room with them. And that voice had seemed to come from everywhere at once. Likely, it belonged to someone observing from another room.

Now his training had been given a moment in which to kick in. His eyes narrowed, and he turned his head so that he could see the first being, identified now as Koraes. "Where am I?" It was a demand more than a gentle question.

She looked confused. "You do not know?" She queried, taking a hesitant step toward him. "How is that possible? You came by Gate." Her head canted off to the side slightly, vaguely like a bird who is watching curiously.

O'Neill grimaced. She made it sound like everyone who used the Gates had the same map. As though _she_ had a complete map. Was it possible? Did this slip of a girl have access to a map of the entire Gate Network? And even more importantly, would she be willing to share it with Earth? And those were only the first questions to present themselves.

However, right now, O'Neill had more pressing concerns. Like . . . why was he restrained? Who was this girl? And how was he going to get out of here and back home?

"Yeah," he admitted after a second, "but I meant where am I _now_?" He corrected her misinterpretation of his question. After all, some time had obviously passed between the electrum light and now. He could be damned near anywhere by now.

Or was she saying that they were still on P3X-796? If that were the case, then it changed everything.

Koraes frowned. The Human must have been far more disoriented than she had thought. She took another step toward him.

"You have not been removed from the Gate World." She said softly. "You were simply Relocated to the Sector Post on that world." Her expression shifted to one of sudden worry; but her next words were not for the Human before her, but rather, for the Post's Artificial Intelligence, Ssendrriya. "Are you certain he was not damaged by the Relocation Matrix?"

There was only a slight pause as Ssendrriya scanned their guest thoroughly. Then her soft voice filtered over the well-hidden speakers in the room. "He is undamaged, Koraes."

Koraes blinked. "Then how is it he does not understand?" She was very confused now.

"Hey!" O'Neill protested. "He's _in the room_!" God, he hated when people did that! Even more with the added indignity of being held down, immobile.

She blinked again, and her metallic-colored eyes came back to him. Of course he was still in the room; she had not released the Restraint Field yet.

Her head canted off to the left slightly again. "Of course, you are. I did not intend any affront." She told him. "You are simply the first Sentient to come here since the station was abandoned." She stepped up to him, now only arm's reach from where he lay. "How is it you do not understand where you are?" She repeated the question she had asked Ssendrriya a moment ago . . . the question which had made him so distressed.

Oh, he understood just fine, thank you very much . . . now that she had told him that they were still on the planet. But in the SGC's dealings with the Asgard, O'Neill had learned that those Transport Beams could take a person off the planet and at least as far away as an orbiting ship. And given that he knew he had some time missing, the time it had taken to bring him here and restrain him, such a ship could have conceivably taken him a great distance by now. Thus his initial question.

"Got it." He told the young lady, suddenly feeling extremely tired. "Next question. Why am I restrained? I mean, it's not like I stormed the place, guns firing." Besides _I doubt I could hurt her if I tried_. Damn, Daniel was the diplomat, not him! Why did he always end up in these situations?

That was true enough. Koraes knew that much, even without touching him. So why was she so afraid? "Your intentions were not known at the time." She answered carefully. "And while I may believe you mean me no harm, I cannot take the risk. I am sorry." She reached forward as if to touch his arm but stopped short. She was alone here. And she had no doubt he was well-trained. He carried himself with the bearing of the Golds.

O'Neill could see the fear in her. He could also see the youth. And what had she said earlier? He was the first Sentient to come here since the Post was abandoned? Did he understand this correctly? Was she here alone? Then who was the other voice?

O'Neill frowned. "So I'm a prisoner here then? For how long?" This was so not good. And getting worse by the second.

Koraes hated this. She could sense his truth, that he would not harm her. But Security Regulations were Security Regulations. She looked away.

"I am sorry. I cannot release you until someone comes to evaluate you." She told him very softly.

"But you said that no one comes here. You can't just keep me here forever!" He protested, feeling that frustration resurface and shift itself into his tone.

"I have no choice." She whispered, turning and moving swiftly to the door. Once there, she stopped as it cycled open. "I will bring you food." And she was gone in the next second, pain flowing through her. She was too young to have to do this . . . to be forced to make such decisions. And she was tired of being alone here.

But the Universe had its own plans.

O'Neill watched her go and sighed heavily, letting himself fall back against the bed. "Just . . . perfect . . ."


	2. One

_**One**_

**/ EARTH /**

"We have to go back!" Daniel protested. "We can't just leave him there!"

Samantha Carter agreed with Daniel in principle. The problem was that the Gate did not seem to care what they wanted. It stoutly remained closed. She sighed and sat back in her chair.

"I agree with you, Daniel." She told the agitated archaeologist. "But the seventh chevron won't lock. We've run every diagnostic in the book and a few new ones we came up with just today. The problem, whatever it is, is not on our end."

Daniel Jackson glared at the dialing computer as if the intensity of his stare and his sheer will could coax it into making the Gate cooperate. He was silent a moment. "Can we dial out at all?"

Carter nodded. "Yes. The problem is definitely only that Gate." She answered, narrowing her eyes at the Gate itself standing like a silent sentinel in the room just beyond the plexiglass window before her.

"Then we can't just dial out to somewhere else and try dialing from there, can we?" He pressed.

Carter sighed again. Like Jack, she hated the feeling of futility. "Not if the problem is with that Gate. If that's the case, it likely won't open for any of the Network." She admitted. "We need to find another way."

"Has anyone contacted the Tok'ra or the Tolan yet? Maybe they can help." Daniel tried a different tack since both races possessed ships that could reach O'Neill without use of a Stargate.

Carter nodded. "The Tok'ra don't have a ship in that area, and it would take them too long to get one there . . . though they did promise to dispatch one as soon as possible. And the Tolan have not answered yet." She told her friend and colleague, not liking the answer any more than he did.

Daniel glared harder at the Gate and the dialing computer. But both seemed determined to ignore them. "Then what can we do?" He asked, his tone indicating the same sense of futility as Carter felt building in herself.

"I don't know, Daniel." She admitted. "But I'm not willing to just abandon him either."


	3. Two

_**Two**_

**/ P3X-796 /**

The food smelled extremely good. The problem was that, beyond the fact that he was still restrained, Jack O'Neill remembered the last couple of times he had been offered food on alien words by what had seemed to be kind aliens. And neither experience was anything he wished to repeat. Still, he could not starve himself forever.

Koraes watched the Human curiously for a moment as he examined the food she had set down near him. He was intriguing and unique; but admittedly, she had never met a Human before him. So her perceptions were likely slightly biased.

She moved to the console which controlled the Restraint Field and lowered the one over the bed he currently lay on. Immediately, another sprang to life around the bed but approximately two feet from it on all sides.

"You may rise now." She told him in her soft tones, watching to see what he would do. His actions in the next moments would tell her much about his character and the truth of his words.

O'Neill watched the young lady for a moment before slowly raising himself to sit on the bed. Another slow, cautious movement brought his legs off the bed and thus allowed him to face her in that sitting position.

He was no fool. He was fairly certain she was not completely trusting him. There was likely still a barrier between them of some sort, so attempting to escape or to harm her would do him no good. No, it was likely better to try to talk his way out of this, good at it or not.

His eyes cast to the tray of steaming meat and what looked vaguely like potatoes then came back to the girl. "What is this?" He asked warily.

Koraes tilted her head to the side and looked to the tray herself before bringing her eyes back to him. "It is food listed in the databases as being native to your world. Is it not satisfactory?"

O'Neill frowned. Satisfactory? He would not know truly unless he ate it. And did he dare? He shook off that thought and shrugged.

"It's fine." He answered, lifting the tray and taking an ever-so-small bite of the potatoes to test them. Nothing odd happened. He took another, larger bite.

"Is it correct?" Koraes asked, curious to know if the Synthesis Matrix had gotten the very alien dish correct.

O'Neill shrugged again, a mouthful of meat that tasted very much like a good steak back home currently being devoured. When he had finished that, he nodded.

"It's good. But how do you know what's native to Earth?" Suspicion began to rise again. She had said before that he was the first Sentient to come here since the base had been abandoned; but had she lied to him? How else would she know such things?

The head remained tilted, raven, blue-highlighted hair brushed over her shoulder and fell in front of her. She imitated his gesture of the shrug. "This is the Sector Post which monitors your Sector." She answered as though that should have been self-evident.

O'Neill frowned again. "My . . . Sector?" He questioned, another bite of potatoes following the question.

Koraes nodded. "Yes. Your world is in the lower half of Sector 14. This Sector Post was established to monitor, study, and report all activity within Sector 14."

How could he not know this? Were the Humans that primitive? She considered asking Ssendrriya, but he had become upset by that the last time. Better to ask him directly, she guessed. "Do you not use the Sectoring System?" She asked softly, head still tilted in her pose of confusion.

O'Neill was beginning to recognize that pose for what it was. She used it every time he said something which confused her. And again, he frowned. She seemed to make him do that a lot.

"Sorry, no clue what you're talking about . . . Sectoring System." He responded, fork coming to rest on the tray as he studied the girl before him carefully. "What Sectoring System?"

This time, the tilt of the head was accompanied by a blink, then two. "You do not know the Sectoring System? How is this possible?" She was not poking fun at the Human, merely trying to understand how a species that made use of the Gate Network could not know what Sector they occupied.

O'Neill sighed, beginning to feel that frustration again. He was so out of his depth here, and he hated that.

He set the tray back down and standing up as if to pace, then remembering that there was likely a barrier up. Instead, he reached out and touched the barrier. It briefly shimmered electrum as his hand met it, and it made his hand tingle up to the elbow. He pulled his hand back and sat back down. "Probably the same way I didn't know where you took me." He muttered finally, frustrated at being caged. But he had decided to test the field later, find out how big an area he had to work with and how much punishment it could take. _Or how much I can take before it knocks me cold, whichever comes first_.

Koraes blinked a few more times then stepped a pace closer to him. "Your people do not mark Sectors?" She queried, her tone indicating pure curiosity now.

O'Neill shook his head. "Apparently not the way you do." He was getting in way over his head, but he could also see that he was catching her curiosity. And that could work to his advantage. It might at least get him out of the Lockdown if she thought he was no threat.

Koraes thought about that for a moment then nodded. "If not, then that would explain how you did not understand where you were." She was talking more to herself than to him now. "What do you call this planet?" She queried, metallic azurite-colored eyes fixed on him, glittering with curiosity.

"P3X-796." He told her. He could immediately see that his name for it meant nothing to her. As he had expected. "What do you call it?" He fired the question back at her. He needed to gain her trust, get her to let down the forcefield.

Koraes thought about his name for the world she lived on. It sounded vaguely like some of Nevarre's military designations for some of the Post Worlds. Her eyes slid over O'Neill's attire once before returning to his eyes. "We call it Setiyr. You are military, yes?"

Finally a question he could answer! But the question was, should he answer it _truthfully_? That might put them right back where they had started. But by the same token, if he lied to her and she discovered it, she might find worse places to put him . . . places he might never find a way out of. He sighed and nodded. "Yes." He admitted, watching her reactions closely.

Koraes nodded. She had suspected as much from his bearing and his attire. His use of military-like designations for the planet had only proven her theory. At least, he had been honest with her. That suggested that he could be trusted to speak the truth, at least when asked a direct question. It was a start, at least.

She took another step toward him but did not drop the forcefield between them yet. "Then you understand the reason for my caution, yes?" She pressed, her eyes showing hope that he had.

O'Neill nodded reluctantly with another heavy sigh. He indeed understood it, and likely would do no different in her place; but that did not mean he had to like it. "Yeah, I understand." He answered with that nod. "Can I ask you something though?"

He did not actually hold out much hope that she would actually _answer_ any of his questions; but from working with Sam and Daniel so long, he had learned that it never hurt to ask. Okay, well, sometimes it hurt; but it was usually worth it.

Koraes considered her guest carefully for another moment before nodding. "Yes. What do you wish to know?"

Surprise flickered in his eyes and thoughts for a moment before he quelled it and pushed ahead. Best not to lose the moment. "You said this Sector Post reported on all activity in this Sector. Who does it report to?" Not a question likely to get answered, but why not try?

"To Homeworld." She answered immediately, again as though the answer should already be known. But then, she remembered that he had not known the rest of the more simplistic – to her anyway – information and waited for the next question.

That answer was so not helpful to him. He shook his head. "Okay, let's try this again. Which homeworld? I mean, of what species?" He tried.

Koraes blinked several times in rapid succession. "Please help me to understand you." She began. "How is it you use the Gates but know nothing of the Builders who created them? Or of their Sector Posts?"

**/ EARTH /**

"I got it!" Daniel fairly shouted as his head came up off of the briefing room table where he had been resting it on his folded arms trying to think of a possible solution to the Gate problem.

Across from him, Sam jumped slightly, but Teal'C remained stoically unmoving. He did; however, tilt his head slightly in that way he had when someone piqued his curiosity and he was waiting for them to continue.

Sam, likewise, stared at the archaeologist hopefully. They had all been sitting here for the last several hours batting ideas around in hopes of finding a way to retrieve their commander. And until this moment, they had come up with exactly zilch.

"The Asgard." Daniel said it excitedly and as though they all should have seen it before now. "God, I don't know how we missed that one!" He was on his feet and headed for the Control Room even as he said it.

Sam and Teal'C exchanged glances then stood and followed him out. He was right, of course. They had gone through their allies, all but the Asgard. And it made sense to try them; they had helped the SGC out of some pretty tight spots before, and vice versa.

As they entered the Control Room, Walter turned from the Dialing Computer and frowned at them. "Sorry, Major, still nothing." He reported, thinking erroneously that she wanted a status report on the test activations they'd continue to run with that set of coordinates despite the fact that the Gate still remained determined not to connect to them.

Sam shook her head. "Thanks, Walter. But we're not after a status report." She informed him with a slight smile, a note of hope held in it.

"Oh . . ." Walter responded, assessing the looks on the faces of the three. Teal'C was, as always, unreadable, but Sam and Daniel were hopeful. _Do they have a way to beat this?_ he wondered.

"We want you to dial the Asgard." Daniel added a second later as Sam slid into the chair beside Walter's.

Walter nodded and turned back to his computer, entering the symbols that would dial the Asgard. And, as always, as each chevron locked on the Gate, he called them out. When the seventh locked, and the Gate opened, he looked to Carter. "Ready, Major."

Sam set herself and began the transmission . . .


	4. Three

_**Three**_

**/ P3X-796 /**

At first, all he could do was to blink at her. The Builders who had created them? This girl was of the race who had built the Gates? But they were all dead . . . weren't they?

He blinked some more.

" . . . Builders . . .?" He blinked again. He was stuck on that bit of data and could not muster his thoughts to think past it. Not yet anyway.

Koraes nodded. "Yes, the Builders." Now she was more than confused. "You do not know of the Builders?" She mirrored his blinking with her own now.

O'Neill shook his head. It was partly an answer to her question and partly just to shake his thoughts loose. "Um . . . yes and no." He admitted. "Are you . . .?"

Koraes knew what he was asking her. She shook her head. "I am only half Builder. My other half is Sekarra." She explained.

O'Neill shook his head again to clear it. Builder he understood. Another term for the Ancients who had built the Gates. And knowing that they had built the Gates, it made sense to call them Builders. But Sekarra? What the hell was that? He shook his head. "Sorry, you lost me. Sekarra?"

Koraes could sense his tension rise again. He did not know Sekarra, so it might be a threat to his people. She shook her head quickly. "Sekarra are no threat to you or your world. They are mostly Seclusionists." She assured.

Somehow, he believed her. He knew, intellectually, that he should question everything, that he should trust nothing; but he could see it in her eyes. She spoke the truth. And something in her eyes said she needed him to believe her.

He did.

"Okay," he sighed, "but I thought the Ancients, what you call Builders, were long dead." It was a question, and that reflected itself in his eyes and voice.

Koraes blinked and took an involuntary step back before she realized that he was not saying that they should be or that he planned to try to make it so but merely that he had thought mistakenly that it _was_ so. She shook her head.

"No, but they long ago abandoned this Sector Post." She corrected, reminding him of her original statements to him. "I alone remain."

O'Neill shook his head and settled back on the bed from the stand he had affected at her admission that the place belonged to the Ancients. Now he was lost and confused again. And he hated that.

"Wait," he began, "you said this Sector Post reports all activity in Sector 14 to homeworld, right?" His eyes held hers steadily as he worked her through the logic.

She nodded. "Yes." Where was he leading with this?

"Then why don't they come back? Why leave you here alone and not stop the Goa'uld from using their Gates to enslave people?" He felt his anger rise as he also followed his logic and realized that, if this Builder homeworld was getting these reports, they had simply chosen to ignore them! What the hell kind of people were they to ignore this and leave this girl here alone!?

Koraes frowned in thought. "I do not know." She admitted. "Perhaps the War continues, and they cannot spare the ships now." She guessed. "It was, after all, why they abandoned the Post to begin with."

"War?" O'Neill questioned, rising from the bed again and approaching the forcefield slowly. "What war?" Could they have a common enemy?

Koraes frowned and tilted her head in thought. "The Great War which took them from this Post." She answered after a moment of pondering. "Our ally was in grave danger from this Enemy, and the Builders went to their aid. They have not returned, so the War must still rage."

She felt sadness sweep through her thoughts and threaten to break her controls over her emotions . . . what controls she had. She was no warrior. She was only a girl when the Post had been abandoned. And now, she was a girl alone, frightened, and confused. But she was the only one here to keep the Post functioning, so she did as best she could and prayed for the return of the others.

But in all the years since they had left, only this Human had come here. One visitor. And he seemed as lost as she was now. She could feel his emotions brushing her awareness even though she was not touching him. She would not risk that . . . not yet.

O'Neill sighed heavily. Of course, it could not be so easy. He sank back onto the bed and closed his eyes. "Then you don't really expect them back, do you?" He asked very softly, fearing that he already knew the answer.

Koraes, for the first time since she had brought him here, wanted to touch him. She wanted to reassure him that they would return. They would not simply leave and never return. Would they? She stepped right up to the forcefield.

"One day, they will come back." She tried to reassure. The question was, who was she trying to assure? Him? Or herself?

He nodded without looking up. Yeah, one day. But until then, this was his home, his prison. He sighed and fixed her with his stare once more. "How can you be sure?"

She sighed heavily, but her demeanor spoke of conviction. "Because Builders never abandon their own." She stated. Were Humans so different? Would his people abandon him if they could not find him soon?

O'Neill nodded, accepting that answer. At least, for now. "Okay, then it looks like we're both in the same boat here." He muttered.

Koraes tilted her head again. Boat? "Please pardon, but what do seagoing vessels have to do with this situation exactly?" She asked, thoroughly confused by his speech patterns.

O'Neill blinked up at her, caught off guard by her question. He had been trying to think his way out of this when she had asked that. He should have been used to it by now since most Earth colloquialisms confused Teal'C. But it still made O'Neill pause when they hit one. Now was no different.

"Um . . . it means we're in the same situation." He offered. "We're both stuck here and no way to go home." He told her with another sigh.

"Why? Is the Gate on your world damaged?"

Blink. Was she kidding!? "Um, besides the fact that you have me locked up like some kind of criminal?" He queried a bit sarcastically. "Besides that, the Gate on this world won't reactivate." He added after a moment in a more reasonable, if somewhat disgusted, tone, realizing after he had spoken the first that it would have likely not done him any good.

She frowned and nodded. "That is because I shut it down remotely in order to learn of your people." She admitted, her tone a bit sheepish. "And as to the forcefields . . ."

She opened her mouth to say something, but was prevented as the entire Post shook. The lights flickered, and the second voice he had heard before spoke to them. "Koraes, the Post is under attack. Please go to Command."

The Post shook again, more violently.

**/ EARTH /**

Sam flopped back in the chair as the Gate closed. Her eyes closed. She had hoped the Asgard could help them, but Thor was right. With all the damage the Replicators had done to their planets and fleet, they simply did not have any resources to space, no matter how they felt about these Humans, and O'Neill specifically. They wanted to help, but they simply could not.

"Damn . . ." She whispered.

Daniel looked as though he was going to have a fit right there. Teal'C frowned deeply. Even Walter felt somehow subdued now. He stared at his computer morosely as he tried to figure out how to help them. There had to be a way to bypass a Gate Lockout, right?

"Major," he began slowly, a bit hesitantly, "could we possibly bypass the Gate's security system remotely?" It was a wild-hair idea, but now was the time for thinking outside the box. All the inside-the-box thinking had gotten them nowhere. And they were still waiting on the Tolan.

Sam opened her mouth to answer him, but the sound of the Gate activating cut her off. His eyes snapped to his computer as did every other set of eyes in the Control Room. "Offworld Activation." He called. Everyone held their breath to see if Jack's IDC would come up.

It did not.

"Tlan IDC." Walter announced. "Signal coming through."

"Stargate Command, this is Melan of the Tolan." The unfamiliar voice came over the speakers. "The Council regrets that it cannot send a ship currently. However, we will do so as soon as it is possible to spare one." Then the signal cut, and the Gate closed. Abrupt, typical for the Tolan.

Sam sighed heavily. She couldn't just leave Jack out there. But every avenue they tried yielded no success. Futility began to clutch at her mind and heart again, but she shut it out brutally, refusing to succumb to its icy grip. No! There _was_ a way, and they _would_ find it!

But how?

She looked sidelong at Walter. "Let's try dialing once more. If that fauls, we'll start trying your idea."


	5. Four

_**Four**_

**/ P3X-796 /**

The Command Center was silent.

The alarms had ceased a couple of minutes ago, and all was once more in relative calm. Until the doors slid open, and Koraes and their guest rushed into the room.

"What was that, Ssendrriya?" Koraes breathed softly as she ran to the Tactical Display. At least, she assumed it was the Tactical Display since on the few occasions when the station had been in danger, things had been shown there.

O'Neill was right behind her, looking over her shoulder. He did not see anything that looked like hostiles; but then, he could not really tell what was supposed to be there and what was not. So rather than seem completely dumb, he waited silently for the other voice to answer. A voice, he noted, which had never shown itself. A voice which the girl talked to from both the medical section and now the Command Center. An idea started to form.

The voice answered almost immediately. "There is no danger, Koraes." The AI told them. "The tremors were caused by the shifting of tectonic plates on this world."

Koraes relaxed and sank into the chair near where she had been standing. She had let the Human out on the premise that, being military on his own world, he might be of value in an attack, which was what she had thought was happening. Now that it was not, she did not know what she should do.

On the one hand, if he meant to threaten her, he could do so now. He had perfect opportunity. But on the other hand, maybe he was just waiting for a better chance. They were, after all, at the core of the Sector Post. Maybe he was waiting for her to take him closer to its fringes so that he had a better chance of escape. The simple fact was that she just did not know.

O'Neill was studying the Tactical Display. Or he assumed it was the Tactical Display since she had gone immediately to it when they had thought the station was under attack. But still, the symbols and diagrams refused to make sense to him. He was beginning to feel that sense of frustration again.

"What does all this mean?" He finally asked of both the girl with him and the ever-present voice. Then it occurred to him fully what the second voice had just said. "Wait. You called us up here like the place was on fire because of an earthquake?" His voice was incredulous.

Not that he was complaining really. It had gotten him out of the confinement. Still, having been built by the Ancients, he would have expected it to be better designed. Surely its sensors could tell the difference between an earthquake and an attack!

Koraes looked at what he was looking at and shrugged. "I think it is the Tactical Display." She offered softly. She was taking a great risk admitting to him that she did not know for sure, but did she really have much of a choice?

"She is correct." Ssendrriya affirmed. "Currently, it shows all sections and systems in optimum Security Configuration and on standby." She chose not to answer his second question.

He nodded. "So all that was . . . what? An earthquake?" He asked again, incredulously.

There was a pause as Koraes tried to make sense of what he had said and Ssendrriya processed the translation. "That is your term, yes." The AI finally answered.

Koraes blinked. "Then we should return to Medical and-"

"Oh, no." O'Neill protested, taking a step away from her and shifting to defensive readiness. "I am not going back into holding." He stated as though it were a simple fact.

Koraes did not understand at first. He seemed to be preparing to defend himself, but from what or whom? Her? She tilted her head and looked at him carefully.

"I mean you no harm." She assured. "Why do you retreat?"

"Because I am not going to be put in a cage again . . . that's why." He answered, not moving from his defensive pose yet. Not until he was sure she would not put him in lockup again.

"A . . . cage?" She asked. "I do not understand." And she did not. As she understood it, she had not caged him . . . only protected herself. "You understood the self-protection as a Cage?" She queried, head tilted still.

O'Neill's frown deepened. "Of course I did . . . if you meant the forcefield. How the hell else was I supposed to take it?" He shot back.

Koraes shook her head. "It was not intended in that fashion." She told him gently. "It was only for my own protection. As I said before, I did not know your intentions in the beginning. Thus, the forcefield was not designed to keep you in but to keep you from me." And in Builder technology, those were very different things. Has he pressed any other angle on the shield, it would have given way to allow him more room, so long as he did not attempt to move toward her . . . or any sensitive equipment. Had it been meant to cage him, to keep him in, it would not give in any direction . . . period.

O'Neill narrowed his eyes. "Then why take me back if you don't 'intend to cage me'?" He questioned, remaining carefully alert and ready.

Koraes thought about that for a moment. "I . . ." She shrugged a bit, and her eyes turned down. "I guess I was afraid." She admitted.

Now it was O'Neill's turn to be confused. He relaxed his stance only a hair though. "Afraid of what? Me?"

Her metallic azurite eyes came back up to meet his brown ones. "Yes." She admitted in a small voice. "You are military. I am . . . not."

At first, O'Neill was not sure how he should take that. Of course, she did not carry herself with the bearing of a military officer. Maybe she was just too young to belong to her people's military. But that brought up another question.

In their run for the Command Center, he had seen no one else. Not a single sign that the place was inhabited except for her. Strange, to say the least. Did that mean that this girl was alone here? If so, his chances for escape just improved by a great margin. She had said that no one had come here since the place was abandoned. Oh, now how many brain cells had that one taken!? Of course she was alone!

O'Neill shifted posture to a more easy stance, something akin to Parade Rest. "Well, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna go home." He told her matter-of-factly. "Let me do that, and we don't have a problem."

"We do otherwise?" Now she was getting nervous again. Was that a threat?

O'Neill sighed heavily and shook his head. Damn, he hated when he was forced to play diplomat. Daniel and Sam were so much better than he was at it.

"Not what I meant." Besides the fact that she appeared to be so young, he was fairly sure he could best her in hand-to-hand if it came to it. So, really, there was no true problem. "I only meant that . . . never mind." He sighed again. "Just . . . can you turn the Gate back on and let me go home or not?" He asked, fighting that sense of frustration again.

Koraes frowned deeply in thought. "Restart the Gate?" She asked. Her metallic eyes turned to the console in front of her. "Ssendrriya, can the Gate be restarted from here?" She asked.

There was a pause. Then the soft voice of the Post's AI came back. "I cannot restart the Gate since it was shut down manually and not by use of my systems." She answered.

Koraes looked apologetically up at O'Neill from where she still sat before the Tactical Display. "I am sorry. It can't be reactivated from here." She told him softly in that same very small voice.

O'Neill blinked and frowned. "Wait, you shut it down; but you can't turn it back on?" He pressed, starting to feel the futility of this situation again.

She shook her head. "No." She answered honestly. "I don't know how. And Ssendrriya can't."

He shook his head firmly to clear the confusion flooding it. "Okay, wait . . . you turned it off but you don't know how to turn it back on?" He asked, incredulous. "Then how the hell did you know how to turn it off in the first place?"

Koraes felt as though she were going to cry. He had so many questions she could not answer; and the more she could not answer, the more agitated he became. She started to feel helpless again.

"I did what Ssendrriya told me to." She answered this latest of questions, knowing it would likely not be good enough an answer for him.

Good enough was not the problem. He was not angry with her, merely confused. He shook his head again and sank into the chair before the console next to the Tactical Display heavily.

"She told you how to shut it down without her, and you did this. But because of this, neither of you can reactivate it. Why can't she just tell you how to reactivate it without her?" He tried a new tack.

"Because it is not possible." Koraes said very softly. "Ssendrriya just told you this."

"Correct." The voice of the Post's AI confirmed. "In the event that the Gate is shut down manually and not by a maintenance cycle, it sends out a signal to the Area Post informing Homeworld that the Gate has failed. In this event, a Maintenance Team is dispatched to repair and reactivate the Gate." Ssendrriya informed the Human.

O'Neill felt as though he were in way over his head. He put his head in his hands for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. "So . . . basically, I'm stuck here until a maintenance team comes who isn't likely to ever come since this base was forgotten so long ago. That sound about right?"

Koraes wished she could give him better news. "Correct. I am sorry." She offered in her gentle voice tinged with apology.

O'Neill sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. Except to try to find another way home. If the Gate could not be reactivated, then there had to be another way off this planet and station. Didn't there? But even if there was, it was likely beyond his ability to use it.

"Koraes, Is there another way off this base maybe?" He asked.

Koraes nodded. "Yes. The Sector Post has ships." She told him. "Though most of them were used in the evacuation. I think the only one left is a little scout ship."

"Correct." Ssendrriya told her immediately.

"Good. Then you" he looked hard into Koraes' eyes "are going to take me to it and show me how to fly it." Damnit, he was going home; and that was all there was to it.

Koraes shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"What!?" He protested then sighed and sank back into the chair. "No, wait. Let me guess. You don't know how to fly it either?" He knew his vice sounded a bit acerbic, but he did not care right then.

"Correct." She answered apologetically.

O'Neill had the sudden urge to bang his head against the console he was sitting before until either he fell unconscious or he woke up from this bizarre dream. But he didn't follow that impulse as the only likely outcome was to be the former. Instead, he merely sighed and laid his head back against the back of the chair, eyes closed. He was right back where he had started.

Stranded.

**/ P3X-796 – AN HOUR LATER /**

O'Neill sat in the pilot's chair of the small scout ship and stared at the controls before him with a frown. After almost an hour of sitting just like this, they made no more sense than they had in the beginning. The symbols refused to resolve themselves into something familiar to him. He sighed.

Had the situation been different, he might have stopped to marvel at the advancement before him. He might at least have been impressed by the weapons carried by even this small scout. But right now, all he felt was frustrated, powerless, and lost . . . and he refused to let those feelings win.

Lost he was. Oh, he knew the name of the world; but that did not put him any closer to getting home from it. So lost was accurate.

Powerless was . . . mostly accurate. Without the knowledge of the Ancients, he had no idea even what these instruments were telling him much less how to fly this thing! Yet, the Sector Post had to have records, right? But then, if it did, why had the girl not read them already and gone home?

Uncurling is legs from beneath the Navigation Console, O'Neill exited the small ship and made his way back to the Command Center. There had to be records. This was, after all the Watch Post for an entire Sector . . . whatever that meant to the Ancients.

"Koraes, I need some more information." He began as he approached where she was seated in a chair that vaguely resembled one of the 'throne' chairs on Goa'uld ships but was much less ostentatious.

Koraes' metallic blue eyes came up to meet his brown ones, and he could see that she was afraid. "Yes, O'Neill?"

She had finally, after their last talk when it had become clear to her that they were going to be here together for some time, asked his name. But she seemed reticent to call him by his given name, referring to him by his House name.

He shook his head a bit. It was a small thing, and he decided it was not worth upsetting the girl over. "Are there records here on how to fly those ships?" He asked instead.

Koraes tilted her head in that fashion he was becoming accustomed to. It seemed to indicate thought or confusion. "Yes." She answered.

So he had been right. He frowned. "Can they be translated into my language?" He pressed.

She frowned, seeming not to know. "Ssendrriya?"

"They can." The AI answered his question. "Do you wish to review them?"

Was she kidding!? Of course he wanted to review them!

"Yes." He answered, seating himself before one of the Consoles while the AI translated her database for him. "Koraes?"

"Yes, O'Neill?" She queried, seemingly relieved that his question had been answered satisfactorily.

"Why haven't you reviewed these records, taught yourself to fly the ship, and gone home?" It was a legitimate question, after all. Why remain trapped here alone when you had the means to return home as he was doing? Something itched in the back of his mind, but he tried to ignore it for now. That sensation usually meant trouble, and he had enough of that right now.

"Because I do not wish to endanger the rest of the Empire." She answered without hesitation though her voice was very soft. But this was not the softness of voice that told him she was afraid her answer would displease him. This was a softness of voice that told him that she carried some guilt he had no name for.

That itching sensation in the back of his mind increased; he would regret asking the next question. "Endanger them how?"

She looked up at him, and he could see deep regret in the metallic blue eyes. "By carrying the Plague back to them."

**/ EARTH /**

Sam felt like banging her head against the desk, but she took a deep, calming breath instead. She and Walter had been at this for hours with the same result as simply dialing the Gate . . . nothing. Standing, she began to pace, stretching a bit as she did so.

Walter sighed heavily. It had been a good idea. It seemed though that the Gate Systems were a bit more complex than at first thought when it came to such things as overriding lockouts. Or maybe they had to open the Gate at that end to get into its systems?

"Maybe it's because we can't open the wormhole." Sam had thought of it just as he had but had voiced it first. "Which puts us right back where we began." She sighed and turned to stare at the Gate itself as though she were seeking answers from it. "Could we dial the six chevrons that will lock and then feed a low-level power through to the other Gate, build up the power and force it to lock the seventh?" She wondered aloud.

_Now you're grasping at straws, Sam. And implausible ones at that. Get some rest. You're no good to him like this._ She counseled herself. But she could not bring herself to leave the Control Room until she had found it.

General Hammond solved that particular dilemma for her as he entered the Control Room and looked her over. "Major, you look like hell. Get out of here and get some rest. We won't give up on him, I assure you. But I need you in top form."

That was an order, and Sam knew it. She sighed again and nodded. He was right, and she knew that too. After all, even she had been thinking it just before he had come in. She nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."

As she reached the door, Hammond's voice reached her. "And, Major?"

She stopped in the doorway and turned. "Yes, sir?"

""We'll find him." He assured.

"Yes, sir." It was not simply trust in her commanding officer. It was determination. She would not stop until she had done just that. She would not leave him exiled to some dead world.

_I _will_ find you, Jack._ She promised him silently as she left the Control Room.


	6. Five

_**Five**_

**/ P3X-796 /**

"Plague!? Koraes, why the hell didn't you mention that sooner?" He was on his feet now, his expression somewhere between incredulity, fear, and annoyance . . . or was it anger? She was not familiar enough with his expressions yet to differentiate between them.

Koraes knew she should have spoken sooner, but she had not thought it made any difference. The Plague she spoke of had been designed specifically for the Kryll and had only taken the Builders on the Post after trying to adapt to her physiology. Since she had no Human in her, it would not affect him, right?

"I . . . I am sorry, O'Neill." She whispered from her place in the Command Chair. "I had not meant to deceive you; it is simply that it was not designed to affect Humans. Therefore I did not see any need to inform you of its existence as you would not be affected."

As she watched him, his expression shifted between a few other emotions before settling on one that she guessed was a combination of fatigue and worry. "Designed? You mean someone killed the folks here by using a bio-weapon?" He asked, sinking back down into the chair he had risen from.

Koraes nodded. "Yes. During the Great War. Our Enemy sought to destroy the half of our Alliance which had constructed the only weapon which could turn the tide of the War."

O'Neill had to restrain the shiver which ran up his spine at the mention of biological warfare. True, he was Special Forces, which meant that he had been trained to understand it and recognize the applications of it. But that did not mean that the prospect of actually seeing it used was any less disturbing. It just meant that he had a clearer understanding of how disturbing it was.

"Is there a way we can be sure I'm not affected?" He asked, his tone somewhat subdued now.

"Ssendrriya can scan you." Koraes offered, her own tone as subdued as his.

"Do it."

Ssendrriya acknowledged and began the scan. Koraes decided that maybe if he had more information, it might help.

"The Bio-Weapon as you called it was designed only to kill Kryll." She reiterated her statement of earlier.

His brown eyes fixed on her, and she felt as though he were looking straight through her to her soul. "Your people didn't abandon this station, did they, Koraes?" He asked in that same subdued tone.

Koraes swallowed and turned her eyes away from his piercing gaze. "The Sekarra did, yes. They were afraid that the Plague would mutate and take them. They took the ships." She clasped her hands in her lap. "The rest did not leave, no."

O'Neill knew by that itch in the back of his mind that he was going to regret asking the next question. Something about her demeanor told him he already likely knew the answer. Yet, his military mind, needing as much information as possible, needed to ask the question. "What happened to them?"

Koraes did not raise her eyes from her hands. She could not look into those strong but gentle brown eyes as she answered . . . an answer she knew he would react badly to. "They were taken by the Plague."

He had expected it; yet, he found himself trying to digest it. "Wait, you said the Plague was only designed for Kryll. Right?"

"Yes."

"Then how could it . . ." His blood ran cold, and his heart skipped several beats. The answer was so simple, even without the medical expertise of Dr. Frasier, he could figure it out. It also explained the guilt he had seen in her eyes before. "You? How?"

Koraes tried to shrink into the chair, wished for it to swallow her whole. "I became ill. As it attempted to adapt to my physiology, it only half succeeded. It adapted to my Builder half and swept through that part of our population even faster than it had the Kryll." She swallowed, fighting back the tears of remembered loss, pain, and guilt. The guilt was heavy in her heart now.

"Faster?" That made no sense. Not even by the small bit of medical knowledge he had. It should have been slower. "Why faster, Koraes?" He really did hate to continue to pour salt in an open wound, but he needed all the information possible if he was to make a proper threat assessment.

She felt hot tears burn a path down her cheeks; and her head came forward, raven hair streaked with blue fell in front of her face, hiding her expression from him. "I was engineered to be the perfect melding of Sekarra and Builder genetic matrices. The best of both species." Two species which could not merge naturally. "Because of this, it had a perfect sampling of both sets of DNA to adapt to."

"Which is why the Sekarra were afraid." O'Neill finished for her. "They left you here because they were afraid you'd carry it to their empire, and the Kryll/Builder Alliance doesn't know you're here to retrieve." He continued the logic.

"And I have not told them." She finished it for him. "Because I may yet carry the Plague to them." Her head was still down, her hands clenched tightly together in her lap.

Now it was all coming together. She was in a form of self-imposed exile to avoid killing others. And that decision took a courage and strength that even O'Neill could admire. Especially in one so obviously young and inexperienced.

"You're a very brave young lady, Koraes." He told her genuinely.

Koraes looked up finally. Her metallic azurite eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and her voice shook. "Not so brave, O'Neill." She whispered brokenly. "I endangered you to assuage my loneliness. I . . ." Her voice broke on the apology, and she buried her face in her hands. Her slender frame shook with the sobs which escaped her best attempt to hold them in. "I'm sorry . . ." She finally managed in a broken whisper.


	7. Six

_**Six**_

**/ P3X-796 – NEAR THE GATE /**

Eldran Tutanna looked up from his examination of the Gate and its Encoder. His electrum eyes glittered in the afternoon sun. "Humans, Commander." He told the lady standing behind him and slightly to his right and watching over his shoulder.

Siyrena Tavarrell frowned. "This far out?" She asked, her own gold eyes reflecting the startlement in her voice.

"Apparently." Eldran answered. "It seems that four of them came here via the Gate, but only three of them left." He added, frowning slightly.

This information did not please Siyrena at all. "Then there is yet one here." She turned toward another member of the team she had brought with her. "Tiyanna, scan the area. I want to know where this Human is now." Her voice had become harder in that statement, a reflection of the Gold she truly was.

Tiyanna Iymarrean nodded. Her half Kryll heritage gave her malachite green eyes, but her Builder half made them metallic malachite. Those eyes were as hard and intense as her Commander's gold ones though. This lady was not the Commander of Gold for this ship for nothing, after all. "Understood, Commander." She acknowledged, turning then to the rest of her Squad and ordering them to fan out and begin the Sweep.

Siyrena turned back to Eldran. "Where did the three go?"

Eldran turned back to the Encoder, touching symbols in a sequence that did not activate the Gate, but rather, told it to go into Records Mode and scan its cache. A moment of humming, and the small data device Eldran had set atop the Encoder flickered to life, flashing the requested data in the form of Sector Coordinates.

Eldran read off the coordinates then looked up at his Commander. Siyrena frowned. "There has been a great deal of activity from that world's Gate of late. Perhaps this warrants further investigation. Signal the ship. Inform them that I am returning and to have a channel to Homeworld awaiting me."

Eldran nodded and proceeded as directed. Siyrena vanished in a twist of Gold energy, a signature Gift of the full-bloods. Eldran turned back to the Encoder then.

This could get extremely . . . complicated . . .


	8. Seven

_**Seven**_

**/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

O'Neill had not meant to hurt the girl. It was not in his nature to hurt children; and in some ways, she was very much a child. Though in years, she was older than she looked, she'd had no teaching in social skills. Ssendrriya had taught her all the appropriate schooling texts; but not having other people around, Koraes' training in dealing with other Sentients was severely limited. Something which O'Neill had not really taken into account until that moment.

Slowly, he stood and approached her, squatting down in front of her. He lowered his voice, trying to convey gentleness in it rather than the flood of harsher emotions he had been showing her since they met.

"Koraes, it's all right." He said, gently lifting her head to look at him. "I know you didn't mean any real harm. And I know what loneliness can do to a person." When it was clear that she was not going to turn her head down if he released her, he did so and sat back on his heels. "The problem is I need to get home; and I can't do that until I'm sure I won't take this Plague of yours back with me." He was being very gentle but laying all the cards on the table. Trying to make her understand the situation as he saw it.

Koraes nodded slowly. "I understand, O'Neill." She said softly, brushing a hand over her cheeks to clear away the last tears. Then her expression shifted to confusion, and her head tilted. "You are not angry with me?" She asked very softly.

O'Neill sighed. Part of him was . . . the part that was frustrated and felt trapped. But part of him was not; and that part won, for now at least. "No, I'm not angry with you." He assured gently.

Koraes smiled a warm smile. "Thank you, O'Neill." She offered, reaching out to place her hand over the one of his he had on the arm of the chair for stability . . . a gesture she had not done since they had met.

The touch revealed much to her. It showed her his fear of being caged, his worry that he could inadvertently harm his fellow team members, his kindness and gentleness, his strength gained through conflicts and manners of training she could only imagine. She saw the pain that was his and the strength he had gained from living through it. This was a strong and gentle man whom she suddenly felt very strongly she needed to help.

Her eyes focused and became determined. She took her hand back and leaned back in the chair to address Ssendrriya. Her voice had gained an edge of determination and strength to it which had been lacking before as well.

"Ssendrriya, the Scan results?" She demanded of the AI.

Ssendrriya's voice came back almost immediately. "His system has undergone alteration from what my data records show as Human normal. The Plague was unable to take residence within him."

Both Koraes and O'Neill relaxed visibly. Each had their own reasons, but the result was the same . . . relief.

O'Neill stood and returned to the chair he had been sitting in before her confession and subsequent breakdown. He was relieved for both of them. He could safely go home, and she could be sure that she had not caused another being to die from this illness. "All right, Ssendrriya, then show me how to fly that scout."

His speaking of her name was badly accented, but she did not mind. He was not Builder or Kryll, so she had not expected him to say it properly. But at least, he had made the effort rather than simply calling her Station or Computer or some other such derogatory term.

The information flickered on the screen before him then vanished, replaced by other information. What looked like a schematic drawing of the Post was slowly filled in as if a camera were panning back to give him a wider view of the area surrounding the base. Several units out (though he could not have identified the units of measurement the computer was using), several blips could be seen on the screen. This, he realized was a Tactical Display. Someone was coming.

"Ssendrriya, identify." He commanded before realizing he had no place here to command her. Well, he was the only one among them with any military training, so he let it stand.

Ssendrriya, fortunately, responded to his command immediately. "Those who approach are unknown." She answered. "The Forms appear Human, but they do not exactly match the specifications of Human."

O'Neill stiffened. "Shield the Post and explain." His tone had become sharp-edged now, and his eyes were narrowed on the screen.

"Each Form seems to be constructed of two distinct and yet intertwined Forms." She explained as ordered. "Do you wish Military Assessment, O'Neill?"

O'Neill nodded. "Absolutely."

"Their pattern indicates a military advance. Sixteen rows of nine beings each. Their stride resembles the stride known as marching in your language. Assessment: this is an advance force for a greater Military Unit."

"Damn!" O'Neill growled under his breath. He should have known they'd catch up with SG-1 sooner or later! "They're Jaffa, Ssendrriya. The servants and army of the Goa'uld." He defined. "What offensive and defensive capabilities does this Post have?"

"We have three interlocking layered Shield Systems. Primary Weapon is a Phased Plasma Cannon. Secondary Weapons are Particle Beam Accelerators. Tertiary Weapons are Variating Pulse Cannons firing 250,000 pulses per second on differing frequencies. Internal defenses consist of three levels of Security Grids. Level three merely prevents access by erecting forcefields around the secured area which require Command Authorization to deactivate or cross. Level Two warns the individual that they are crossing into a Secured Zone. Should they proceed, they are immediately transported to a Stasis Unit via the Translocation Matrix which brought you here from the Gate. Level One utilizes the Translocation Matrix to scatter the offender's molecular components. Is this satisfactory, O'Neill?"

At first, he could only sit and blink. Satisfactory? Hell, he didn't even know what half of that stuff did. But as long as it could kick Goa'uld ass, he didn't care what it meant.

"Hell, yeah!" He answered when he could once again coax his larynx to cooperate with his brain, or rather, the reverse. "Put up the shields then and prepare to defend." He commanded, not knowing what else to say. "Is there a way I can help?" He hated sitting still in a battle.

"You may take Firing Control if you wish, O'Neill." Ssendrriya answered, translating the information on the screen in front of him to English, the language she had determined he had been speaking. "Place your hands against the silvered plates and think your commands. I will carry them out."

O'Neill blinked and looked at the console. There were no silvered panels there. A flash of memory only half remembered made him look at the arms of his chair. Sure enough, there they were. He set his hands against them and leaned back in the chair. His eyes closed, and his mind began to flow with the Station . . .


	9. Eight

_**Eight**_

**/ P3X-796 – OUTSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

Tiyanna Iymarrean frowned. She disliked it when something eluded her. She prided herself on her thoroughness and her skill in tracking. But somehow, this Human had just gone off her screens.

In his place; however, a Shield Grid had activated. A TriGrid of the old design. Fascinating. She touched the earring she wore on her left ear and transmitted the information back to Commander Tavarrell for instructions.

It was then that she noted the apparent reason for the Shield's activation. It seemed they were not the only beings in search of the Human who had used their Gate. Someone had brought a small army in search. This, too, was transmitted to Siyrena.

The command came back clear, crisp, and strong. _Do not let the Sector Post fall to them_. Tiyanna acknowledged and motioned for her people to move out. This had just gotten ugly . . .

**/ IN ORBIT OF P3X-796 /**

"My Lord," the Jaffa at the controls of the ship spoke crisply, "the other ship is moving to intercept us."

It was as much a request for orders as it was a providing of information to the Goa'uld behind him. Said Gua'uld, of course, could very well see this for himself. Therefore, he chose only to acknowledge the request for further orders in the Jaffa's report.

"Raise the shields." He commanded, his voice deepened even more than it had been before the Merging and altered slightly as were all of his kind. It gave them an air of imperious command best followed, he thought, a sense of power best not disobeyed. "Prepare the weapon."

The Jaffa at the controls acknowledged his Lord's command immediately, moving his hand into proper alignment with the command crystals to coax the ship to cooperate with his commands to raise the shield and charge the weapon. There was no hesitation, no question. There never was with this particular Jaffa. He had seen his Lord dispatch others for such, and he had no desire to share in their fate.

"The other ship also raised shields and is powering weapons." The Jaffa reported to his Lord. "They send a message."

"What is the message?"

The Jaffa touched certain crystals, and the message played on the screen which shifted into existence before them. Three people stood facing the screen, expressions calm and controlled . . . and proud, he reflected. Well, they would soon regret that. The center one spoke, a female who carried herself with power.

"Hostile vessel, you are given warning. Do not approach this planet any closer. Any approach will be considered hostile and will be met with appropriate force. End transmission." And the screen became dormant, shifting out of existence when the transmission was ended.

Wisely, the Jaffa said nothing. Nor did he turn to regard his Lord. His eyes remained forward, his hand ready on the control crystals.

Behind him, the Goa'uld was fuming. Who would dare to deny a god access to any world!? Only a fool denied him access! But he could wait for now, let them think they had been heeded. But when his army on the surface had succeeded in taking the ancient base there, the ship and its insolent triad of fools would pay for that impertinence!

"Hold." He commanded his Jaffa. "We await the signal of my First Prime."

The Jaffa acknowledged, indulging in a small smile. His Lord had never lost. And by day's end, the fools aboard that ship would wish they had never shown such arrogance before their god. Time was theirs . . .


	10. Nine

_**Nine**_

**/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

Shields flowed around him. Weapons powered. And Colonel Jack O'Neill was having none of it! He pulled his hands back from the chair arms and leapt from the chair. "Whoah!"

When he moved with such force and speed, Koraes flinched visibly. "What is wrong, O'Neill?" She asked, her voice worried.

His head whipped around, brown eyes fixing on her. "What are you, kidding?" He shot back incredulously. "This is the same stuff that . . ." Her look of non-comprehension stopped him cold. She would not have known about his previous encounter with the Ancients' technology. And she would not have known that these encounters had given him a healthy apprehension about utilizing said technology. He swallowed and straightened his posture.

"Nothing." He lied, badly. "I just didn't expect it to be so . . . real in there."

The truth was it scared him for a couple of reasons. The first was that he remembered his last encounter with this species' technology. It had slowly taken over his mind; and only the Asgard had stood between him and death, removing the Ancients' Repository from his mind and returning him to Earth. That was not something he cared to repeat . . . ever.

And the second thing that scared him about it was how familiar it felt. When he'd held the Repository in his mind, it had simply felt as though he were drowning in someone else's memories. This time, it had felt as though two minds were blending, merging in a way. And what scared him about that was that it had felt somehow natural, as though he'd done it before. But he hadn't. And now was so not the time to start.

But he couldn't really tell this girl that. She would never understand his fear of her technology. She didn't now. She was watching him as though he'd grown a second head.

"Your technology is not so?" She asked, puzzled by his words. How could he exist in a world where the technology was so . . . flat?

"Hell no." He answered, slowly and cautiously retaking his seat but not putting his hands anywhere near those silvered plates. The damned station could raise its own damned weapons.

"Then how do you command it?" She asked.

He started to answer her then stopped and frowned. "Hey, shouldn't someone be prepping weapons or something?"

"That is what you were doing." She reminded him gently. Had something gone wrong? Had Ssendrriya's interfaces functioned improperly with his Human physiology and hurt him?

Ssendrriya's voice came over the hidden speakers. "What you have called Jaffa have reached the Perimeter Defenses. Orders?"

Orders? She was treating him as though he were in command here? O'Neill blinked and thought about it for a moment. "Ssendrriya, can we hold them off?" He asked after a second.

"Yes." Came her immediate response. "Not indefinitely, but for some time."

O'Neill hated vagaries. "How long can you hold them off . . . exactly?" He pressed.

Ssendrriya did some calculations based on the weapons the Jaffa were carrying and the number of Jaffa and the station's defenses. "Barring intervention on either side, one Maintenance Cycle." She answered calmly.

Great, she was answering his question but not in any terms that meant anything to him. His frown deepened. "And what is that in Earth years?" His voice held a note of the testiness he felt.

"Converting." She told him and fell silent. On the screens above his head, the Jaffa were spreading out to surround the facility, testing its defenses all the way. Another second, and she spoke again. "One Maintenance Cycle is five hundred of your years." She said as though that was a short time.

At first, O'Neill said nothing. He just blinked at her. "Wait, you mean to tell me that if no one comes to help you and no one comes to help them, you could withstand their weapons for five hundred years?" Again, the incredulity was in his tones.

"Correct." Ssendrriya answered proudly. "However, they do appear to have help."

O'Neill groaned. Of course they did. Where there was an army of Jaffa, there was usually a Mothership lately . . . at least. "How many?"

"I sense only one." Ssendrriya answered, sounding slightly distracted. "However, there is another ship also in orbit of this planet. It has some form of Scanner fooling device; however, as I cannot gather a clean reading on it."

_Great! Just great! Stuck on some alien planet, under attack by Jaffa, and some ship in orbit that even the Ancients' technology can't identify. Just . . . perfect!_

"All right, then let's make sure we can defend ourselves if they get through the station's defenses." His eyes fixed on Koraes again. "Does this station have hand weapons?" He was now in Military Mode, strategies and tactics flickering through his mind as he moved, standing from his chair and heading for the door with a wave for her to follow him.

Koraes did not argue. She stood and followed, almost having to run to keep up with him. They were of equal height, but he'd had a small lead, the Tactical Display he'd been seated at being nearer the doors.

She answered his question on the move. "Yes, several types. What exactly are you seeking?"

"Anything that'll take down those Jaffa."

Koraes considered his answer and found it not really much of an answer. Still, she tried to sound sure. "The Variating Pulse Rifles would likely do." She suggested.

O'Neill blinked and watched her out of the corner of his eye as they moved through the halls. "Where are they?"

Koraes took the lead and ran through the corridors toward the Armory on the Command Level. When she reached it, she looked up. "Ssendrriya, open Command Armory One."

There was no answer for a second; then the doors before them slid open. Beyond them were shelf upon shelf of weapons O'Neill could not even begin to identify. His eyes widened, and he looked like a child in a candy shop.

"Holy . . .!" He grinned. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" He looked at the shelves and then at the girl beside him. And in that moment, something seemed to shift in him. His face set, and his body stiffened. She could not even guess at what he was thinking, but he moved into the Armory with purpose. "Tell me about these weapons." He instructed.


	11. Ten

_**Ten**_

**/ P3X-796 – OUTSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

Outside the Station, the battle had begun in earnest. The phalanx of Jaffa had begun to pound the station's shields but were forced to turn their attention elsewhere as they came under attack by the Golds.

Bolts from Staff Weapons were exchanged with bolts of Gold energy which the Jaffa could not define. But in the end, it did not matter. The bolts could cut them down as surely as a Staff Weapon. So they simply accepted them as weapons fire and returned it.

This left the Station virtually undefended and unmolested. The Jaffa who led this particular army smirked. Good. Just as his god had commanded him. He opened his communications device. "My Lord, the Station defenders are engaged as you commanded."

**/ IN ORBIT OF P3X-796 /**

In orbit, the Gua'uld whose army this was smirked in turn. "Good." He intoned. "Now we move." The communication was cut, and his eyes turned to the Jaffa manning the Control Console. "Move in. We take the Station now."

The Jaffa acknowledged, and the ship moved into position. Its weapons primed.

Soon this Station would be his; and all others would bow to him. The System Lords would be forced to acknowledge his superiority after this. Acknowledge it or die.

The Builder ship moved to intercept the Goa'uld ship as it had warned it would. And had this been a full Warship, it would have had no trouble dispatching this intruder. But as it was, this was only a Maintenance Ship. Therefore, the Goa'uld had the advantage. But even this small Maintenance Ship would make them work for it before it went down.

**/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

In the station's Armory, O'Neill examined each weapon as Koraes told him what it was and Ssendrriya told him how it functioned. This place was a soldier's wet dream! But in the final analysis, Koraes had been right. The Variating Pulse Rifle (VPR) was indeed the best for the task. With that many pulses per second, it might even find the frequency of the Goa'uld personal shield. Slinging one of those over his shoulder, he holstered one of the weapon's pistol variety to his thigh and grabbed for a shield device of his own.

The shield device, and all the other things on the shelves went skittering off them in the other direction. O'Neill and Koraes were tossed off their feet as well as the station shook violently, more violently than it had during the earthquake. Now _that_ felt like weapons' fire.

O'Neill got immediately to his feet, helping Koraes up even as he gave commands to Ssendrriya. "Ssendrriya, report!" He barked, steadying the girl on her feet and heading out of the Armory back toward the Command Center.

Koraes followed him without question as Ssendrriya answered. "Outer Shield Layer has been breached. The ship in orbit has destroyed the other and has begun a direct assault on the Sector Post." She sounded distracted, and she was. She was very busy with the defense of their lives.

O'Neill cursed fluently and sped his movement, reaching the Command Center just as Ssendrriya announced, "Secndary Shield is breached. Initiating Security Level One."

He blinked and looked at Koraes. "Which one is that again?" He muttered in a sort of a grumble which was not at the girl really but rather at his own lack of understanding of this place. Though why he should understand it was beyond him. Unless it was a vestige of having the Ancients' Repository in his head.

She looked up at him as they reached the Command Chair and she stepped aside to allow him to sit. He did so, again avoiding the touch-plates on the chair's arms. "It is the Level which disperses any who cross it unauthorized." She answered in a hushed whisper as though the enemy would overhear her if she spoke louder.

That was not why she did it really. When the station had been active and in danger, she had always been taught to be quiet to let the adults work to resolve the situation, that she was not to distract them. Something of that behavior had carried over even now.

O'Neill nodded and looked at the screen before him. It was showing the terrain surrounding the base. The Jaffa seemed to be still occupied with whomever had come to the station's aid. At least they would only have to worry about the Jaffa on the ship then . . . at least for a while.

But that shield would not hold forever. Nor much longer if the speed with which the ship had destroyed its other two counterparts was any indication. He needed a plan, and he needed one yesterday . . .


	12. Eleven

_**Eleven**_

**/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

"Tertiary Shield breached. Internal Security to full." Ssendrriya's voice came over the speakers in the Command Center.

O'Neill had to admire her programming really. Her defenses were being taken out, and she was holding a calm tone. She had been designed to help the inhabitants of the station keep calm under stress by leading by example. Yes, a note of intensity had slipped into her tones, as it would have his; but the calm dominated. She sounded like a command officer to him rather than a civilian. Nice design.

But now was hardly the time to marvel at the wonders of Builder technology. Now was the time for action. He stood from the Command Chair and headed for the door, Koraes right at his heels. He suspected she wanted to help him, but she was not trained for this. He stopped at the door and turned, putting a gently restraining hand on the girl's shoulder.

Had his mind been analyzing the signals his hand was sending, it might have realized then that the 'cape' was not cloth or fabric of any kind. But his mind was on the battle ahead of him. The girl only entered into that equation in the sense that he needed to protect her.

"No, Koraes." He countered her attempt to follow him as gently as he could given the circumstances. "Stay here. This is likely one of the most secure spots on the station. You'll be safe here. I'm going to make sure that if any of them get in, they get a very warm welcome." And then he was gone out the door, leaving her standing, staring after him.

The tone he had said that last with had given her the impression that what he meant by warm would not be good for their invaders. Though, for the life of her, she could not piece together what exactly he might have planned for them that would constitute 'warm' but unfriendly.

Koraes returned to the Command Chair and sat, eyes closing. Her hands came up and rested gently on the silvered touch-plates on the chair's arms. From here, she could watch over him, help him, and do so with virtual impunity.

**/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST, SOME TIME LATER /**

This was why, Jack reflected, SGC personnel carried so much crap in their packs. Each one had to be prepared to be caught behind enemy lines without the backup of the rest of their team. And he _was_ that. But it still sucked.

Jack set the last of the C4 and checked the detonator. Part of him hoped the station's AI was not as sentient as she seemed or this was going to suck as much for her as it did for the Jaffa who came in here. But he could not worry about that now. He had to be sure they did not get to anything vital.

Pocketing the small detonator, he stood and began to silently retrace his steps to the Command Center. But Jack's luck being what it was, he had not made it four turns when he rounded a corner to find himself face-to-Staff Weapon with a contingent of Jaffa. This day just kept getting better and better, he thought bitterly as he stopped and slowly raised his hands away from his weapons. If he died here and now, then the girl had no hope. She was not a warrior, and he doubted she would fare well against an army of Jaffa.

The lead Jaffa approached him and took his P90 and the pistol he kept in his belt under his jacket. Apparently the Goa'uld Rumor Mill was working overtime.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill..." The Jaffa uttered the name as if it were the foulest curse he could think up. "Lord Ares will be pleased with this catch." Then he smirked and prodded Jack with his Staff Weapon, a signal to move. "Show us to the Command Center." He ordered.

Ares... great, now they'd moved into the Greek myths. God of war; this should be... interesting. But this guy had to be smoking some really good stuff if he thought Jack was just going to lead him to the girl and the Heart of the Station! His eyes flicked to the Staff Weapon still held at the ready, then he shrugged. "You're the boss..." He started down the corridor, the phalanx of Jaffa behind him.

He could not lead them back the way he had come, but there had to be another way to that section of the station. If he could lead them there, he could set off the C4. Yes, he would die in the resulting explosion, but he would take the Jaffa with him.

No, no good. That would leave the station and the girl defenseless. Shit, all he could do was lead them where they wanted to go. This sucked _big time_!

**/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

In the Command Center, Koraes watched helplessly as O'Neill led the invaders to her. She could not leave the Secure Field up or it would disburse O'Neill along with the enemy. But if she took it down, the enemy would have access to the station's technology. She could not allow that either. She had no idea what to do.

Fear clutched at her mind and immobilized her in the Command Chair. Metallic blue eyes closed, and she began to shiver. She needed O'Neill and his advice. She needed the strength he seemed to always have coiled about him. She needed his decisiveness and his knowledge of war and tactics.

"O'Neill..." She whimpered softly, knowing he could not hear her. And even if he did, by some miracle hear her, he could not answer. "What should I do? What is right?" She whispered, her voice choked by the fear that froze her thoughts. "What would you do?"

Shaking violently with the fear and confusion, she commanded the Secure Field to lower. She needed O'Neill; she could not let him be disbursed with those things he called Jaffa. The field lowered, and she sat frozen, waiting for them to come for her...


	13. Twelve

_**Twelve**_

**/ P3X-796 – NEAR THE GATE /**

The invaders had left him for dead, and truth to tell, he was not far _from_ that. Eldran had been partially shielded by the body of one of the Golds in order that he might finish his work. Whatever happened here to them, this Gate had to be reactivated so that help could be brought through it. Those were his standing orders, the last his Commander had issued. And he was determined to carry them out.

But he could feel the effects of the injuries beginning to take hold, his mind slipping into a kind of grey haze. He needed rest; that was all. Just a moment of sleep, and . . .

_No! You can't sleep yet!_ His mind chided him. _First the Gate. Then you can sleep. Just a little more, and it will all be over, Eldran . . ._

Electrum eyes narrowed in fierce concentration as he dragged the body of the Gold who had protected him off of him and laid her gently aside. Reverence for the dead. Then he began to drag himself up to his knees, using the Encoder to hold onto and pull himself up with.

The Gate had to be reset. If he managed nothing else before the Light took him, he had to accomplish that. And he was so close. Just a few more keys, and he would have it. The Humans would once again have access to this Gate. They could come for their friend.

His vision started to shimmer as he entered the last set of codes into his Control Device. _Just a few more seconds, Eldran. Let it tell you it's done._ The tiny silver light flickered on, and Eldran slumped next to the Encoder, eyes sliding closed. His job here was finished. The Light could come for him now.

The Gate was now active once more.


	14. Thirteen

_**Thirteen**_

**/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

They sat together near one of the back consoles of the Command Center. Two Jaffa stood before them, Staff Weapons ready to shoot them at the slightest move. In the Command Chair, the lead Jaffa was seated, making a report to someone they could not see. After a moment, the conversation ended, and he swiveled the chair to face them.

"You." He barked at O'Neill, causing Koraes to flinch visibly. "Come here. Show me how to operate these controls." It was an rder given in a voice that said the man would brook no disobedience. It was a tone Jack knew well. The problem was, he could not do as asked. He did not know how to run this place... except with the silvered plates. And he was _not_ giving up _that_ secret.

"Love to." O'Neill shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Can't."

The Jaffa growled and motioned to one of the two holding the Staff Weapons poised before them. The one thus motioned to reached forward and hauled Koraes to her feet roughly by her arm.

Surprised, she let out a soft cry, and her eyes went wide. Fear surged through her, and she felt something stir besides the fear. Energy coiled inside of her reached out and struck the Jaffa, sending him reeling backwards. The energy was Gold-and-silver twisted together, and it startled even her when it reacted. She'd never done that before. In fear of retribution, she recoiled and closed her eyes tightly against the bolts she was sure were going to cut her down.

No bolts came. Silence reigned in the room. The Jaffa in the Command Chair blinked and stood slowly, motioning the rest to step back a bit. His eyes were fixed on the little lady who had just knocked one of his men off his feet with the same energy that his troops had been fighting outside. Yet, she did not quite look like the others they had fought.

His eyes narrowed, and his voice was a dangerous growl. "How did you do that, girl?" He demanded.

Jack, too, had been stunned at her display. Even with the Ancients' Repository in his head, he'd not known they could do that. Then again, it might not have been in the Repository if it was a species-wide trait. No need to mention what was already a given fact. Or it could come from her other half. What had she called it? Oh, eight, Sekarra. Still, he could not just sit there and let them badger her.

He stood and opened his mouth to say something, but she was already answering the question. "I... I don't know... Sir." She faltered, fear glittering in her metallic eyes as she stared wide-eyed at the man before her. "It... It's never h-happened... b-before." Her tone was a plea for him not to hurt her, and it was obvious in her stance, voice, and eyes that she was telling the truth. She really did _not_ know how she'd done it.

His eyes remained narrowed. He snatched the Staff Weapon from one of his Jaffa and pointed it at her, its nose touching her chest. "Tell me, or I will kill you where you stand." His voice growled out.

Koraes's wide eyes lowered to the Staff Weapon held against her, and she began to shake violently. Her eyes closed, and tears slid down her cheeks. "I-I... told you. I d-don't know!" It was a desperate plea, and it tore through Jack, the cry of a frightened child always could.

"Leave her alone!" He drew the Jaffa's attention with his own growled voice. "She said she didn't know. Look at her. She's scared to death. Don't you think if she _did_ know she'd tell you?" It was not necessarily what he'd _wanted_ to say, but it was likely to help the situation more than what he'd wanted to say. Either way, it didn't matter... as long as they stopped pushing the girl. She was an innocent and far too young to have to deal with this insanity.

The Jaffa turned to regard O'Neill for a second then turned his eyes back to the still-shaking Koraes. "Maybe." He shoved her with the end of the Staff Weapon, and she whimpered, cowering away from it. "And maybe it's a well-designed ruse."

"Jeez, and people call _me_ paranoid." Jack grumbled. His eyes never left the Jaffa though. "Look, she's just a kid. She doesn't know anything. Just let her go." And there it was, his one weakness. Children. He could not stand to see them harmed.

The Jaffa looked hard at O'Neill then back to the cowering girl. "You value her life, O'Neill?" He asked, eyes remaining narrowed but on Jack now.

And the Game was on. The Jaffa had not missed that weakness and was going to exploit it. Jack said nothing; he did not need to say anything. The answer was in his eyes, and he knew it. The question was rhetorical.

"Then show me how to operate this Command." The Jaffa commanded again. "Or she dies."


	15. Fourteen

_**Fourteen**_

**/ EARTH /**

They were all getting desperate. Soon, General Hammond would be forced to call off the attempt to retrieve Colonel O'Neill, and he would be listed Missing In Action. And they were all feeling the pressure.

Sam and Walter, and even Siler, had gone over every possible answer, tried every conceivable solution, and a few that Sam considered 'way out there.' Even Teal'C had given a few ideas, but nothing had worked. The Gate refused to lock onto that seventh chevron no matter what they did.

Desperation hung heavy in the air. The rest were trained Military; they held up better under stress. Daniel; however, was a civilian, a scientist, and most importantly – to him anyway – Jack's friend. The desperate energy weighed on him and drove him to the Control Room for one last-ditch effort. He was going to try the Gate one more time just out of that desperation. What choice did he have? He couldn't simply do nothing!

As he entered the room, Walter looked up from the Dialing Computer. He did not say anything though. What could he say? He knew how they all felt about this. He turned back to the terminal and stared at the screen morosely.

"Walter, I want to make one last try." Daniel said softly. He did not have the energy for any more than that now. Too much stress and not enough sleep were catching up with him and taking their toll. "And please don't argue. I don't have the energy to fight you on this."

Normally, Walter would have reminded him that they needed authorization from the General for any dialing, but Hammond _had_ said to do whatever was necessary until he told them otherwise, until he had to pull the plug. So he merely nodded and began the dialing sequence for P3X-796.

"Chevron One encoded." He droned, each chevron following the next. Both held their breath as the Dialing Computer tried to lock that seventh chevron. The Gate spun, the seventh symbol stopping under the locking mechanism. The locking mechanism lowered then raised. "Chevron Seven locked!" Walter blinked. "It . . . locked this time."

Daniel released a breath he had not realized he'd been holding. A grin spread slowly over his features as he reached for the Comm key. "Sam, Teal'C, get up to Control. We have a wormhole!" He enthused, cutting the comms then. They would understand what he meant, he was sure. "Shut it down, wait five minutes, then try again just to make sure." He told Walter.

Walter nodded and closed the Gate. Daniel stood back, joining the other two as the entered, a grin on his face. Five minutes later, the Gate came to life again. And again, it locked. Whatever had happened, it seemed, had been fixed.

They could go find Jack!

Hammond had come in behind Sam and Teal'C. Relief was evident in the General's voice as he looked at the three members of SG-1. "Suit up. You leave as soon as you're suited." The three grinned and left the Control Room, each sending his or her own thoughts out to their lost companion.


	16. Fifteen Finale

_**Fifteen**_

**/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST /**

Ssendrriya was in a quandary. In Alert Mode, she was required to answer only to orders given by a Command Officer. The problem was that there was, technically, no such person currently aboard the station. O'Neill was the closest thing, and she _had_ already begun taking orders from him, so she guessed that qualified. The problem was that she could not tell him how to reactivate the Security Field on the Command Center without the intruders hearing. And if they heard that, they would surely figure out that she was more than a simple, stupid computer. And then, the game would be up. No, she needed a better, subtler way.

She began to consider her options. One, she could hope that O'Neill would touch one of her PsiPlates. Then she could communicate directly with him. But the risk there was that he would not have reason to do so. No, she had to be certain that she could get the instructions to him, tell him what she needed from him.

Then there was his very primitive form of communications device. It could be useful if she could properly adjust her frequencies.

Then an idea came to her. And had she possessed a form, that form might have smiled with the sheer brilliance of the idea.

The Human brain, indeed the brain of any sentient, operated on bio-electrical signals which were transmitted at certain frequencies from neuron to neuron. And if she could find the exact frequency of those signals, she could communicate directly with O'Neill in the technological equivalent of Telepathy. It was, in essence, no different than finding the comms frequency of another machine and tapping into it. The brain, at its most basic, was a most intricate and sophisticated computer, after all.

So, bearing this in mind, she began to scan O'Neill, analyzing the signals that passed from neuron to neuron within his brain, searching for the single frequency that would allow her to communicate with him.

He was stalling. He had no idea of how to operate this station save the touch-plates, but he'd be damned if he gave the Jaffa and their Master that! But he could not simply stand by and do nothing either. He knew this enemy well enough to know that Jaffa never bluffed when it came to this sort of thing. He moved to the Command Chair and sat slowly, eyes sliding over the controls. He needed an idea, and he needed it _yesterday_.

_I have a solution, O'Neill._ A soft voice that somehow resembled the ever-present voice of the station's AI whispered in his mind, and he nearly jumped out of the chair. His eyes flicked to Koraes, but she still looked too frightened to think clearly . . . even if she _could_ do that. But it was not his own thoughts either. His eyes returned to the panel.

"What are you waiting for, Human?" The Jaffa with the Staff pointed at Koraes growled, powering up the Staff but not firing it . . . yet.

Koraes could not help it; a whimper escaped her, and she closed her eyes. This was a complete Nightmare! She prayed it would end but not with either her or her new friend dead.

"Back off, Jaffa." Jack ground out between clenched teeth. "I'm trying!"

_Tell me quick, 'cause I'm pretty sure his trigger finger's getting itchy._ He thought, hoping that whatever the voice was, it would indeed have a way out that did not involve death for either himself or Koraes. Normally, this whole talking in his head thing would make him completely freaked, but he didn't really have any options right now save to try to keep calm and hope that trusting it didn't backfire and bite him in the ass later.

_Touch the keys in the exact order I show them to you._ The voice instructed gently.

_What will that do? Better yet, who are you?_ He fired the questions back, feeling completely foolish even entertaining this notion. Surely, he'd just finally flipped.

_No time, O'Neill._ The voice whispered back urgently. _I promise I will explain once you and Koraes are safe. Please . . .?_

O'Neill hit the chair arm with one hand as though he were frustrated with the controls, buying a few more seconds from the Jaffa. _All right. Show me._ He agreed finally. What choice did he have really?

The sequence came fast. Blue, green, red, green, blue, yellow, yellow, grey, blue, then the black key. He frowned as he tried to remember that. His eyes came up to the Jaffa. "Okay, what exactly do you want it to do?" He asked, giving the impression of capitulating with the demands.

"Sensible." The Jaffa smirked, pleased with this turn of events. It would have been a waste to shoot the girl, after all. She could be useful, though _not_ as one of his troop. "I want Command Access."

Jack frowned, pretending to hesitate, to reconsider. If he made it too easy, the Jaffa would know he had more up his sleeve than just his arm. The Jaffa bought his ploy and tightenedh is grip on his Staff just a bit. Not enough to fire it, but almost.

"Okay, okay." O'Neill 'relented' immediately. But he could not keep the slight smirk from his lips as he entered the sequence the voice had given him. Whatever it was, he was fairly sure it was not going to be good for the Jaffa invaders.

Kel'thar, First Prime of Ares, was pleased. This had been easier than he had expected it to be. After hearing about this Human and his team, SG-1, he had expected this to take much more convincing and maybe even a death or two. But this O'Neill was smarter than the Rumors gave him credit for. He stepped forward to watch each key O'Neill hit, a slow smirk sliding over his features. Soon the station would be his. And when it was, he would . . .

The thought never finished itself. As O'Neill hit the last of the keys, Kel'thar felt himself become lightheaded. But even that feeling did not last more than a millisecond. It was followed by oblivion.

"Internal Level One Security Field reactivated." Ssendrriya announced over the hidden speakers in the Command Center just as the Jaffa vanished, never to be seen or heard from again as their atoms would now be scattered across half a parsec of space. "Enemy troops removed. Would you like me to activate Level One throughout the entire Station?"

O'Neill blinked then laughed. Oh, that was clever! "Absolutely!" He answered without hesitation as he got up from the Command Chair and moved toward the shaking Koraes whose eyes were still tightly closed, arms wrapped around herself in A sort of self-protective way.

As he neared her, Koraes released her arms and wrapped them tightly around him in an almost desperate grip. Relief washed over her, and she could no longer hold all the tears of fear and relief in. They spilled free, dampening his uniform shirt as sobs wracked her slender frame. It was over! And they had both survived it! Praise the Gods!

O'Neill was startled by her sudden grip on him at first, but after a moment, he simply put gentle arms around her and let her have the moment. She was, in some ways, very much a child still. And children needed comforting in such situations.

_No,_ he thought, _children shouldn't _be_ in such situations!_

"Colonel O'Neill? Jack, you there?" His radio startled them both. Koraes leapt back and stared at the thing wide-eyed. Jack blinked and looked at it. But after a second, he activated it and answered.

"Daniel? Is that you?" He asked. "Where have you guys been?"

There was a pause from the other end, then Sam's voice came over the small unit. "Jack, we've been trying to override the Gate here and get back." She answered, relief evident in her tones.

"Well, good work, Sam." O'Neill complimented, glad beyond what he had expected to be to hear their voices, especially Sam's. "We've had a bit of excitement here." He looked at the girl then back at the radio. "I'll explain it all when I get back."

Another pause. "From where, Jack? All I see is trees." Daniel's voice again.

"Me too." Came Sam's confirmation.

"Agreed, O'Neill." Teal'C added his confirmation to theirs. "There do not appear to be any structures nearby."

O'Neill looked at Koraes for explanation. She smiled. "It is not near the Gate." She explained while he held the radio so that the others could hear her words. "It is on the other side of this world. I will Translocate O'Neill back to you."

O'Neill blinked and looked at Koraes, shutting off the radio for a moment. He almost asked why she was sending him back and not coming, but the look in her eyes answered it. The same reason she did not go home. Ssendrriya had said the Plague had not been able to take up residence in him because he had been altered somehow. He suspected that it had to do with all the nanobots, tinkering of Ancients' equipment, and miscellaneous and sundry other things that had tampered with him over the years. But the others were not altered the same as he was. They might be susceptible to it. And she was not willing to take that chance.

He wanted to protest this, to take her with them and damn the risks. But, for all that she was a child in many ways, she was right. He could not. If the Ancients and their Allies had not been able to cure it, it was unlikely that the SGC would either. And there were just too many lives at risk if she went with him.

Once again, he found himself admiring the girl and her courage as he set a hjand gently on her shoulder. "Good bye, Koraes." He said softly, for him, ruffed her hair, and stepped back. Jack O'Neill was not one for long, drawn-out good byes. He never had been.

Koraes understood. She moved to the Command Chair and looked at him once more. "Thank you, O'Neill." She whispered before activating the control that would take him back to the Gate . . . and his friends . . .

**End**


End file.
